


Disaster Preparedness And Your Family

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Disaster Prepping, F/M, Family, Pandemics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: When the pandemic came, they were prepared.  Of course they were prepared.  They’d been on a hair-trigger edge for decades.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Disaster Preparedness And Your Family

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-S11  
> A/N: Inevitable, no?

When the pandemic came, they were prepared. Of course they were prepared. They’d been on a hair-trigger edge for decades. Even in their apartments, they’d had stockpiles of canned goods, of bottled water, of toilet paper. They’d had go-bags stashed in their cars and in their parents’ houses. Every sneeze had startled them. Every car backfiring had been the beginning of the next civil war. They were exhausted by their diligence by the time the real thing happened. 

It had been easier, before, when they were young, before they had Jackson and the baby to consider. Before they had graves to tend. They were prepared no, after all these years of screwing their courage to the sticking place, but they weren’t ready. 

They spent hours whispering in the dark about what to do, tucked up under the covers. 

“We should leave,” Mulder says. “Get out of the city.”

“Back to your country estate?” Scully asks, a wry tone in her voice. “That isn’t far enough. Not if this gets as bad as we’ve always imagined.”

“I still have contacts,” Mulder told her. “And the Gunmen’s contacts. We could get farther away.”

“Remember that cabin?” Scully said wistfully. “God, that was the middle of nowhere. We didn’t see another soul unless we went into town.”

“That place was perfect,” Mulder said. And it had been. Self-contained, just like the two of them. Supplies laid in against an endless winter that might come without warning. They’d rebuilt themselves there after months on the road. 

“It was,” Scully agreed. “For the two of us. Not for the four of us.”

“No, not for the four of us,” he said. 

“I’m not leaving,” she said. “Jackson - he just came back to us. If we try to take him somewhere, he might disappear again.”

“He could do it, too,” Mulder mused. “We still don’t understand all he can do.”

“He can hide from his parents,” Scully murmured. “He can do what every teenager longs to be able to do." 

"You’re right,” Mulder said. “We can’t take him away.”

“And we can’t leave him,” she said, and paused. “And I’m a doctor. They’ll need me.”

“We need you,” Mulder said. 

“I know." She shifted toward him, rucking the sheet up over her shoulder. "But what am I supposed to do, Mulder. I pledged my life to this. I didn’t become a doctor to sit idly by while the world goes up in flames.”

“I know,” he said. He put his arm over her and pulled her even closer. She settled herself against his chest, tucking herself under his chin. “Besides, it would be hypocritical of me to keep you from the cause you’ve devoted your entire career to just because it’s potentially deadly.”

“You said it, not me,” she said, the words muffled against his skin. “I’m scared, Mulder, but I can’t let that stop me.”

“We’ll be careful,” Mulder said. 

“We’re always careful,” she said, in the face of all truth. They didn’t talk about the black oil and their potential immunities to viruses alien and terrestrial. Neither of them had gotten sick much since her miracle cure, since his resurrection. Aside from the occasional mild flu, they were perfectly healthy. They didn’t talk about her promised immortality. But he thought about it, quietly, as if to avoid attracting the notice of a god he didn’t believe in. All their yesterdays would catch up, some tomorrow. He could only hope it wasn’t this one.

His lips sought hers in the dark, and met halfway. They clung to each other, wringing all the comfort they could out of the moment.

At breakfast the next morning, Mulder was feeding the baby, whose name was Grace, although they exclusively called her The Nugget, an invention of Jackson’s. The Nugget was in high spirits, refusing the plastic-coated spoon of scrambled egg with a grin and a shake of her head. Jackson slouched in and poured himself a cup of coffee. Scully exchanged glances with Mulder over the top of The Nugget’s coppery head. 

“Jackson,” Scully said, trying to keep the emotional lilt out of her voice. 

“Mom,” he said, collapsing into a chair at the table. 

“Your father and I have talked about it,” she said. “Our plan is to stay here, as long as we can.”

“I figured,” he said. 

“We didn’t think you’d enjoy the country,” Mulder said, making airplane zooms with the spoon, which made The Nugget giggle, but didn’t convince her to eat. “And it’s easier to get supplies here, for now.”

“I can watch the house here if you guys do decide to leave,” Jackson suggested, the height of casual.

“Nice try,” Mulder said. He finally managed to maneuver the spoon into The Nugget’s open mouth. She cackled through a mouth full of egg. 

“I’m taking a leave of absence from the FBI to work in a local hospital,” Scully said.

“Obviously,” Jackson said, sipping his black coffee. He almost managed not to wince.

“Obviously?” Scully asked.

Jackson rolled his eyes halfway, a gesture that managed to look like mockery and prayer all at once. “Mom, I don’t know why Dad hasn’t told you this, but you’re, like, basically the biggest do-gooder of all time. There’s no way you weren’t going to do something like this.”

Scully’s jaw dropped. Mulder grinned at her and she closed her mouth and frowned at him. “I’m not the biggest do-gooder of all time.”

“You kind of are,” Jackson said.

“I held a federal agent at gunpoint,” she protested. “More than once.”

“Probably for some do-gooder reason,” Jackson said. “What did they do, kidnap Dad?”

Mulder toasted him with The Nugget’s spoon as he tried to tempt her with some more egg. “You know it.”

“See,” Jackson said. “Anyway, that’s fine. I want to come with you.”

“You can’t come with me,” Scully said automatically. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“You’re going to be exposed,” Jackson pointed out. “That means basically all of us are going to be exposed.”

“I’ll take precautions,” Scully said. “I know how to protect myself. I’ll sleep on the couch, or at the hospital if things get that bad.”

“The Nugget’s not going to understand why you can’t play with her,” Jackson pointed out. “The hospital’s not going to have a place for you to sleep if it gets that bad, and you’re not going to quarantine yourself in our house. Not with The Nugget around. I can wash my hands for twenty seconds. Maybe even thirty if I’m feeling really virtuous. I can wear a mask.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Mulder asked. “No offense, Jack, but I didn’t think you inherited your mom’s do-goodness.”

“I didn’t,” Jackson said. “But this is the end of the goddamn world.”

“Language,” Scully said automatically.

“It’s the end of the goddamn world, Scully,” Mulder said, his grin crooked. “Again. Let the boy swear. It’s his first apocalypse.”

“I can help people,” Jackson said. “I know I haven’t really done that a lot in the past, but I can give people some peace. Help them see what they want to see.”

“Even if we both do the best we can,” Scully said, “that’s still exponentially increasing the chances that we’ll transmit it to someone else.”

“So Dad takes The Nugget to the backwoods,” Jackson said with a shrug. “You and I live it up in the big plague-ridden city. Nobody else gets exposed unless we have to get groceries.”

Mulder and Scully looked at each other. 

“Da! Poom!” demanded The Nugget, less excited about the eggs than frustrated about losing Mulder’s attention. He sent the spoon into figure eights. She grabbed it and crammed a fistful of egg against her mouth. Mulder set the dish on the tray of her high chair and she mashed her fingers into it. 

“It’s a good idea,” Scully said slowly.

“That must be why I don’t like it,” Mulder said with a wry grimace. 

“I want to be clear,” Scully said to Jackson. “I don’t like it either. But you’re old enough to make this decision, and you and I both know you’re going to do what you want whether I give you permission or not.”

He favored her with Mulder’s grin and her heart stuttered. “Sorry, Mom. Turns out being an asshole is a dominant trait. That’s just genetics.”

“You are your father’s son,” she murmured.

“I don’t want to be away from you,” Mulder said, wiping The Nugget’s egg-smeared face with the edge of her bib. She banged on her tray. "Either of you. And I don’t want to take her away from you either. But it’s probably the best option in terms of keeping us safe while you two are saving the world.“

"I’ll feel better knowing we’re not endangering you,” she said. 

“I’m going to let the two of you work this out,” Jackson said. “Come on, Nuglet.” He unbuckled his sister from her high chair and extracted her. “Let’s go rot your little baby brain with unauthorized screen time.” The Nugget giggled and patted egg on the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

“You know he’s right,” Mulder said. 

“I do,” Scully told him. She managed to smile. "Another annoying trait he inherited from you.“ 

"I’m proud of him,” Mulder said. “He hasn’t had a life that’s lent itself to selfless acts. But this - it’s pretty much pure philanthropy. He’s got talents. He wants to help.”

“He’s come a long way from Ghouli,” Scully said, with more than a touch of pride in her voice.

“He has,” Mulder said, scooting his chair toward hers. He put his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair. “The kid’s all right.”

She clutched to him. “It’s the right answer. It’s just not the one I wanted to hear." She sighed. "Even after everything we’ve endured, I still can’t stop myself hoping that we’ll find the perfect answers, despite all evidence to the contrary. I mean, we’ve been living in crisis so long, I feel like disaster is my hometown.”

“You and I have been through worse,” Mulder consoled her. He paused and then tilted his head. "Probably.“

"I know that,” she told him. “That doesn’t make it easy." 

"I don’t think it ever will be easy,” Mulder said. “But we beat on, right?”

“We always do,” she said, and rested against him. 

“I’ll pack this afternoon,” he said. “She’s going to need a bigger suitcase than I do.”

“Make sure,” Scully said, and then her voice caught. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Make sure you take her 2T stuff, just in case.“

"I was just going to let her run naked if she outgrew all her clothes,” Mulder said, elaborately casual as Scully dabbed at her eyes. “See if I could raise myself a Jersey Devil.”

“I should have let you name her Virginia,” Scully said. “It seemed a little on the nose, at the time.”

“Virginia Grace Nugget Devil,” Mulder said. “You know she’s going to miss you.”

“I know,” she said. 

“We’re both going to miss you,” he told her, tightening his arms around her. 

“I’ll miss you both,” she said. “We’ll miss you both.” She took a shaky breath. “Mulder, tell me this is the right thing to do.”

“You don’t need me to tell you,” he said. “You always know the right thing to do. It’s embedded in you.”

“Like a microchip of unknown origin,” she teased. Her eyes were still watery. "You’ll be all right?“

"We’ll be all right,” Mulder promised. “I’ll take the baby aspirin and the humidifier. By the time you come find us, we’ll probably be raising chickens and goats and spending half our day gardening. You’ll never drag us back to city life." 

"You going feral was pretty much inevitable,” she said. 

“It was,” he agreed. “Pandemic or not.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s have one last good day together before you go save the world.”

“Every day with you has been good,” she murmured. “Even the terrible ones.”

He coaxed her into his lap and they sat in the sunny kitchen, wrapped up in each other, putting up one last sweet memory against the lean months ahead.


End file.
